~~~
This is historical fiction - with the naughty parts included. It's entertainment. If you want to know more
(which, quite honestly, I hope this tale encourages), search the facts out for yourself.
~~~
Mitchell's alarm woke us, and Lydia gasped as she realized that she'd fallen asleep without returning to her own tent. She hurriedly dressed, kissed me, and raced off to check on her brother and her children.
When I chatted with Nathanial, later that day, he grinned and told me that Holly had been a heated bitch as well. She had spent the night in his tent and - from the way he described it - they had fucked as long and hard as his sister and I had done.
He also told me that Holly had missed her monthly cycle and that the pair was fairly convinced that she was pregnant. He planned to marry her once we were settled in Oregon. I wondered if he and Holly would be able to make a land claim of their own.
We were following the Snake River now. It twisted and turned far more than the previous waterways had. It also was far less accessible. There were times that the waters flowed mere feet away from us but were almost completely unreachable because of the cliffs we'd have to scale to get down there. We tried hooking a bucket to a length of rope but were only marginally successful at getting enough water to cook with and refill our canteens.
We had mosquitos in Illinois but nothing like this. I swear these things were big and nasty enough to carry off a buffalo calf. As soon as we stopped for the night, tents went up and everybody moved inside to escape the pests. I was ever so glad that I had decided to get my tent. I asked Virgil if they found their way inside of his wagon and he said that they did. The letters from his kids had warned him about them and he had some pieces of cheesecloth that he used to make a tent over his face to keep the things off of him at night.
Lydia was back to her old self again - which meant that we only fucked once each night - and sometimes just every other night - rather than repeatedly over a few hours. I wasn't about to complain but my back at least had a chance to recover.
~~~
The soil turned toxic. I'd been warned that this would come but it was worse than I'd imagined. The whole area stunk, the soil was chalky and dead, and little grew. I was used to the farmland along the Mississippi River - good black soil that would grow anything with almost no work. I couldn't imagine trying to farm this shit. We saw no one but travelers. There were no homes. I didn't even remember seeing anymore Indians. Any ponds or pools of water were noxious, fetid things. I didn't even have to warn people not to drink the stuff. We took water from the river when we could and - even then - I encouraged them to boil it.
The environment was so harsh, dry, and toxic that it even began to erode the wood and iron that the wagons were made of. This was the point where things got desperate for some who'd not had the money to buy spare parts to carry with them. Sometimes, you could pick something from the carcass of a wagon that we found lying along the trail but mostly people had to make do or borrow from their neighbors. We even had a couple families that ended up having to combine wagons together in order to continue on. In those cases, parts and possessions went through a nasty kind of auction as people made their bids for this or that - hoping it would either survive the trip - or help them to survive it. Things were desperate and people were irritable and easily angered.
Over the course of the two weeks that we followed the Snake, tempers flared more and more - and higher and higher. By this point, I knew every person in my half of the wagon train - and a few of the more notable ones from Mitchell's half.
Annabeth Maxwell was 18 years old. She was traveling with her mother and the man that I thought was her father. During the time that we traced our path along the Snake, however, I came to find out that the man was her mother's second husband. Annie's father had either passed away or moved on and her mother had remarried.
I had heard Annabeth's parents squabbling on more than one occasion as I passed by them over the months that we had traveled together. The young woman always seemed to be trying her best to walk as far from the pair as she was able. Her face was tight and her mouth was closed. Generally, her arms were crossed in front of her. She wasn't doing it to make her chest look bigger. She was simply frustrated and it showed. I usually just avoided the family as much as possible.
A day or two after we started following the Snake, Annabeth/Annie showed up at my little campsite - just before Lydia arrived. My lover walked up just as the young girl began to explain her predicament.
"I can't do it anymore," she said firmly.
The young woman glanced at Lydia as she sat down on the log beside me, just like she usually did. Then the girl went on.
"All they do is fight and I can't stand it. It's driving me crazy. I don't have much to call my own - just what I have in this pack."
She looked into my eyes.
"Can I stay with you?"
Before I could speak, Lydia asked her a question.
"You plannin' to fuck him?" she inquired.
Annie looked at her - and then me - and then back at the blonde.
"I ... hadn't thought about that," she said.
"You mean to tell me that we've been walking this trail for the last four months and you haven't thought about fucking Thomas?"
"I ... it's not my place," Annie told her.
"I didn't ask if it was your place, little miss," Lydia snarled. "I asked if you were plannin' to try an' fuck him."
Annie held her tongue.
"Tell me plainly that you don't want him that way," Lydia ordered.
The young woman remained as she was. Her face didn't show expression. She didn't say a thing.
"I don't think Lydia is accusing you," Virgil said quietly. "I think she's just wanting you to be honest with yourself and with her - and Thomas - about how all of this is going to work."
Annie looked from Virgil to me to Lydia.
"I've ... never had a man," Annabeth said.
"You want to though?" Lydia asked her.
"Yes," the younger woman replied.
"And you've thought about Thomas being the one."
"He's ... yours," Annie said quietly.
"He's not mine," Lydia said matter-of-factly.
Annie's eyes widened as she looked at the woman. She obviously wanted to know how the two of us were fucking if we weren't a couple.
"Thomas has a woman," Lydia explained. "She's waiting for him back in Independence. Her name is Sarah."
Annie looked at me - searching for confirmation or denial. I nodded. She turned back to Lydia as she continued.
"Sarah and Thomas talked before we left. He is allowed to be with a companion - but she had to be willing to share him with Sarah."
"You're his companion?" Annie asked.
Lydia looked at me and then back at Annie.
"Honestly, when Thomas and I started this, I was mourning Bill and he was missing Sarah. We just kind of took on each other's burdens to help one another."
Lydia glanced over at me, suggesting that I help explain. I cleared my throat.
"I've definitely come to have serious feelings for Lydia," I told Annie, "but we haven't defined anything - legally - regarding our relationship. I don't know what Oregon's laws are but most places frown on a man having more than one woman. Sarah told me that we'd make it work."
"You'd have me as well?" Annie asked.
We turned, at the sound of footsteps, to find Annie's father approaching. He came to within two paces of her and stopped.
"When are you coming back?" he asked.
"I'm not," she replied.
He looked around at our group - Virgil, me, Lydia, and Annie - with his daughter being the only person standing.